


I Never Told You

by Blanche Bichette (Wholesaleromance)



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Basically a character examination, F/M, Prompt Fic, Season 2 spoilers, Weird Setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 03:32:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8128834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wholesaleromance/pseuds/Blanche%20Bichette
Summary: Elliot forgets a lot of things, and this is apparently one of them.  Angela calms him down.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Wish I knew who this was for, but it's for a lovely anon on Tumblr that was super nice and cool and I'm like 100% sorry if this isn't what you wanted. I'm taking prompts on [tumblr](http://sihah.tumblr.com), right now. And I have 6/7 open. So go hit me up if you want some subpar writing for free. Unedited so, sorry :P

She’s awake.  She’s always awake.  The light of the sun slowly floods her apartment, rising over the buildings in the city.  She watches in silence, sheet draped over her lithe form.  

Next to her, Elliot breathes softly, rhythmically on the bed.  He’s laying on his stomach,  head turned away from her.  Her eyes sweep over the bare skin of his back, lit now by the coming dawn.  The edges of her lips turn upward just so, a soft smile on her lips.  

He’s covered, just barely by the comforter from her bed.  The fabric settling low on his back, at the base of his spine.  He stirs softly, his rhythmic breathing interrupted as he wakes.  

His movements are slow beneath her gaze.  He rises, pushing himself up from the bed and blinking blearily around him.  He’s expression is confused, concerned, almost _terrified_  for a moment.

Then he sees her, his eyes impossibly wide, lips parting as he takes in a shaky breath.  He says her name, his voice trembling.  

He didn’t remember.  She wasn’t sure she should be at all surprised by this.  It wasn’t the first thing he had ever forgotten.  Elliot’s mental state had been deteriorating for a long time, a very long time, his part in the 5/9 hack was a true testament to that.

He gathers the blankets up from her bed, covering himself as he stands.  She watches him, an almost bored expression on her face.  

“Are you alright, Elliot?” Her voice doesn’t waver whatsoever.  She was far past the person she had been a year ago.  No, she had an air of cool indifference around her.  Even where Elliot was concerned, _especially_  where Elliot was concerned.  Someone had to have a level head.  

He stares at her for a long time, waging a battle inside of his head.  She had seen him do this countless times, his pupils blown wide, his mouth pinched.  She waited for him to respond to her, for his brain to slow down enough to notice that she had addressed him.  

“Angela,” he says her name again, his voice soft and scratchy from sleep.  She smiles at him slowly.

“Come back to bed,” she says, her voice sweet and dripping with honey.  He hesitates, he always hesitates.  His mind racing, his expression filled with fear.  Not of her, no.  Not of any one person, but of himself.  She had seen him like this countless times, terrified of what he had done, of what he couldn’t remember at all.  

He says her name a third time.  As if he couldn’t slow his mind enough to come back to the present, as if every single angle of the scene before him needed to be examined before he could respond with anything other than _her. name._

”Elliot,” she responds in kind, moving to stand up from the bed and come around to him.  She doesn’t bother to carry the sheet with her.  

She sees the moment he comes back to the present. His eyes finally settle on her face, really seeing her for the first time.   _Finally_ , she thinks as she approaches him.  

“What happened?” He asked, still unable to grasp the situation that they’re in.  Angela shakes her head at him, reaching out to brush her fingers across his bare chest.  

Elliot flinches just slightly at the familiarity of the way she touches him.  He doesn’t pull away.  Her lips part as she looks at him from beneath her lashes.  The same way she had looked at him on the Subway not too long ago.  

“Don’t worry, Elliot,” she whispers, her voice low and soft, “you’re safe.”  

He doesn’t deflate at her tone as she had hoped, but he does relax into her touch just slightly.  

“Safe,” he repeats the word as if it had been so long since he heard it.  As if it had been an eternity since he had considered he could ever be somewhere that _safe_  existed.  

He still didn’t understand what was going on, or why he was there with her, she knew.  She could see it in his calculated expression, the way his eyes were still wide, his lips pressed in a thin line.  Though, the crease in his forehead had disappeared.  

She pressed herself against him, arms weaving beneath his to wrap around his waist.  Elliot dropped the mess of cloth he had held between them to mirror her actions.  

She smiled into his shoulder when she felt his arms settle across her shoulders.  A sigh escapes her lips and she presses a kiss against his collarbone.  She feels him shift, moving the bulk of his weight from one foot to the other.  

He doesn’t respond to her kiss, but his arms tighten around her back.  Yet, he’s still stiff, still uncertain.  She kisses him again, higher, at the base of his throat.  She can practically hear the wheels turning in his brain.  

She knows he’s wondering what he forgot, what had changed between them between the last time they saw each other and now.  He would piece it together, she knew.  But until then she would help him...jog his memory.  

The muscles in his back tense and relax beneath her fingertips as she presses soft kisses against his shoulder and neck.  His breathing is faster, his arms moving down to grip at her skin.  

She moves away from his shoulder then, lifting her head up so their faces were at the same level. His eyes are heavily lidded, drunk on the sensation of her against him.  She has to bite back a laugh at the sight of him, coming apart so easily.  

She bumps her nose against his, clumsy as she moves in to press her mouth to his.  His eyes flutter the rest of the way closed, hands digging into the skin of her back, pulling her closer, skin to skin.  

And god, she had him.  


End file.
